


Many Different Lives to Lead (And I am seeing a few)

by Tea_is_Not_Them



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Archivist Sasha James, Buried Avatar Daisy Tonner, Corruption Avatar Martin Blackwood, Gen, Happy Ending, I cannot stress this enough: THERE IS A HAPPY ENDING, I project the stims on this man sorry, Jonah!Tim, Jonathan Stims, Lonely Avatar Melanie King, M/M, Minor Violence, Multi, Slaughter Avatar Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Stranger Avatar Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Time Travel, Typical Web Shenanigans, Universe Travelling, Web Avatar Martin Blackwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26753425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tea_is_Not_Them/pseuds/Tea_is_Not_Them
Summary: Jon and Martin take a chance, and Jon ends up travelling to four other universes, seeing how different things could have ended up.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker, Sasha James/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker
Comments: 14
Kudos: 131





	Many Different Lives to Lead (And I am seeing a few)

**Author's Note:**

> Ayyy,, sorry for being gone so long, I was Writers BlockTM. Again sorry! This is really me wanting to write soemthing and having weird ideas! Hope you guys enjoy <3
> 
> Social Medias:
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The house on Hilltop Road was one that Jon almost knew that he would be seeing one day, old wooden doors and cracked shutters stare down at them as if the house could glare, it was too significant of a place in previous statements, and he knew it’s look by heart and mind. Even if he hadn't seen it before he had Seen it. The walking was long and arduous, through planes of hell and back, but Jon and Martin both knew that hopefully it would be worth it, a crack in time, a way to go back, or a way to banish the entities of horror and gore from this world.

Jon turned to Martin, a softness in his eyes that he usually had when talking to the one he loved, “I- Martin if this fails…”

“I know Jon. It's worth a shot though. We have to try.”

Martin was right, he usually was, even well before all this mess Jon had started. They didn’t want to say goodbye, didn't want to acknowledge they might never see each other again, not the same. Instead they hugged for a long moment, Martin's hand coming to run through Jon's hair, and Jon gripping tight to Martin's apocalypse worn sweater, putting off the plan that they had made even for just a moment. It was risky and stupid, but after killing Jonah and trying to kill Jon they had no choice but to risk it.

A few more moments of holding and trying to keep down any emotions or tears dragged on, and yet happened too fast, before they felt a fraction of the way ready to face the house and run face first into everything they did not know. Jon takes the shaky smile Martin gave with a look of distant worry.

“In we go.”

\-------

Jon woke up, though woke up was the wrong word for it, it was as if he materialized out of thin air which was probably true, he was standing outside of the institute. He looks down at himself, hands not clear of scars, circular holes and a large twisted hand shaped burn. He wonders what happened, because all he can remember is Martin, and the feeling of silky web as he fell through a crack in reality. A brief moment of confusion and amnesia. The place looks the same, strangely enough, but the more he glances, the more different it is. He takes a second to walk through the differences, before opening the front door and walking in.

Rosie is there, filing her nails at her desk, and Jon walks over. She smiles up at him, no recognition in her eyes, just the regular customer service façade, and Jon wonders if he looks that different or if it's really far back in time. He really hopes its the latter and not the former. 

“Hello how can I help you today sir?” Rosie asks, a pleasant look on her face, hands poised to type something up. 

Jon cleared his throat before talking, “Uh my name's Jonathan Sims, what year is it?”

Rosie looks at him funnily, “Oh how funny there's already a Jonathan Sims in the archives, must be a coincidence.”

“Oh yes quite, I’m here to give my statement then.” This is not ideal for Jon, but he would deal with it. There was already a him, but maybe if he could talk to himself he could find Martin. Maybe he could just make a connection, see what was happening. Right now the Eye was not being cooperative, though he was sure that was fair since he did fling its favored avatar into a different dimension.

Rosie nods, “Of course, down those steps, an assistant should be at the bottom of the stairs to help you.”

Jon gives a wave before going to the Archive's step, he knows this place like the back of his hand, better than he knows his own home before this all, and he feels a bit less weak as he enters his domain, he waits by the bottom of the stairs before a tall man comes over. He didn’t recognize this man at, not even as a previous archival assistant.

“Hello I’m Jon Sims, can I help you?” The man asks jovially, holding a hand out for shaking. 

Jon looks at the man confused, blinking a few times. He's tall, with yellow blond hair, not built like a twig but average looking, average enough to be a stock photo. He has brown eyes. His lips are quirked in a smile that a hair too friendly, and made Jon wonder his intentions. Has everyone in this dimension changed appearance? This Jon Sims raised an eyebrow at him, a faux look of concern flitting through his average features.

“You good there?” He asks, and Jon can see amusement in his eyes. Jon Sims is enjoying Jon’s confusion.

Finally some sense is knocked into him, forcefully by the Eye, that isn’t him. That's the Not Them. He's in a universe where the Not Them got him instead of Sasha, and Sasha is in the stacks somewhere getting follow up for something, Tim is in the breakroom muttering paranoia. He stumbles away quickly, grabbing the railing from the stairs to keep from falling on his ass, glaring at the smiling thing pretending to be him in this life.

“I know what you are.” Jon hisses, he feels lopsided, and he turns to see Not Jon staring at him. There is a noise, and he sees Martin coming out of his office, he is half tempted to run to the man but he notices something different. The way Martin is carrying himself is different from the way he knows, less shy and more guarded.

Martin turns, makes eye contact with Jon, the fake one, and gives a pleasant smile, “Jon is this a statement giver?”

“Yes Martin it is, he just had a bit of a scare though.”

Jon watches this, and tries to compose himself. He can’t. He can’t just accuse the Not Them, he’d look crazy. Jon thinks he already does, and he can tell by the way this Martin is looking at him he must look an awful sight.

“Hi, I’m Martin Blackwood, the Head Archivist. Would you like to come to my office and give your statement?” Martin asks, giving a kind smile, and a gesture towards said office, the door looks as he remembered it.

Jon stares before shaking his head to clear his thoughts, “yes sure. Sorry I've had quite the day.”

“Alright just this way sir.” Martin leads him to an office that Jon knows all too well, but it’s nicer. It's homier than he had ever been, and he chuckles, because only Martin could make a temple to a fear god so welcoming. Martin looks at him, probably confused about the fond laugh, maybe even a bit annoyed.

Jon tries to think of a lie and comes up with one that wasn’t terrible, not even a lie really, “Sorry you remind me of someone I know- well, knew.”

Martin hums, “oh that's nice, I think.”

“Yes, he was very nice. Uh. Statement?” Jon was worried as to how he should continue with this, because it was all so new to him. He was in an alternate universe, and he wasn't the one who gave statements he took them. This was odd.

Then he thinks about helping, catching a glimpse of the white man outside that's pretending to be him, and Jon thinks he should share his experience with the not them. 

“Alright, into this, sorry. Its a bit silly seeming but real things don’t record on electronics.” Martin was scrambling to explain himself and Jon is reminded of the Martin before the Lonely. The one he treated unfairly. Did the not-them treat them all kindly, going out to drinks with them. No, Tim knew it wasn't Jon. Huh.

“So Statement of…”

“Jonathan Sims, regarding a thing that stole my friends personality, and made us forget her.”

Martin had tried to compel him, but Jon was the bigger creature here, the monster that ended the world, and still carried a bit of that apocalypse in him the door to all hell. Martin was taking the statement, and before he could finish, he felt lightheaded.

Jonathan Sims fell to the floor, and was engulfed by a webbing stitched in the floorboards. Martin Blackwood, the Head Archivist stared at the places the man used to be, and the tape recorder. Then the door opened to Jonathan Sims, the one that Martin knew. Or did he? The statement struck a deep chord, and something in Martin's head was screaming Stranger, and suddenly he feels the need to talk to Tim about his recent paranoia.

\---------

This time when Jon 'woke up' he was outside of an apartment complex. He recognized it as Tim’s, and he looked up just in time to see three people on a balcony. He watched for a second, before it hit him. There was Tim, himself: this universes Jon, and a woman he doesn’t remember until the Knowledge hits him like a brick.

Sasha James. He watches the three of them laugh, and feels a twinge of sadness for the lost friendships. He wishes he didn’t delve into paranoia. Hell he wished he never took the promotion, but would he have ever fallen in love with Martin if he did that?

Someone’s shining a flashlight at him, and he can hear multiple voices talking. Oh, the three on the balcony saw him. Jon didn't know what to do, as Tim shined a torch at him, yelling about how they should all go inside. 

Oh. Tim thought he was a Stranger. 

Jon waited down while Tim came down, and he looked at the other two, who went inside. He wants to talk to Sasha, wants to talk to Tim. Fingers trail over the burned handshape on his palm, as he waits for the inevitable moment of conflict.

Tim is standing there, grabbing the collar of his shirt and looking very threatening, “What do you take me for.”

“Jesus Tim. It’s me Jon, just not your Jon? It's confusing, I don’t belong here but I’m not a fake, or a mannequin.” Jon scrambles to explain himself and Tim looks taken aback, letting go of his collar and backing up a step.

Tim looks at him, confusion lacing the look in his face. He doesn't exactly know how to respond and Jon takes a step back as well.

“Where's Martin?” He asks, and Tim gives him a confused look.

“Who’s Martin?” Tim asks right back, eyebrows cinched. He is still poised to kill Jon at any moment. He doesn't know that Jon isn't as scared as he could be. 

Jon blinks a few times and suddenly Knows that they had never met Martin in this universe, “Oh... We don’t know him here.”

He wonders what's happening, and his curiosity outweighs his need to be polite to Tim, one he hadn’t pissed off it seems, “Can I… Can I come in?”

He gets a look of suspicion in turn and Tim texts someone, Sasha Jon sees the contact, to be ready to knock a man out because he's being an idiot and inviting him. After she responds, Tim looks up.

“You try anything and you are gone.” He warns Jon, and Jon nods. He wasn’t about to tell Tim that he was practically the apocalyptic messiah, but that might not help his chances in getting their trust. So he follows Tim quietly, self consciously looking behind him. He didn’t know if Martin would show up at any point, or if he might see something unpleasant.

They get over to the door of the flat, and Jon waits for the door to open to see Sasha and himself. The him from this universe is wide eyed, looking at him. Jon flinches away from their eyes a little. Sasha is so different, he knows now. She had darker skin and tight curly hair, her nails are painted beige and her hand is stationed on the other Jon’s shoulder like she was keeping him from floating away.

“Who are you?” Sasha asks, looking at him with skeptical eyes. The stance they all have is suspicious of him, and his hand is flapping in nerves.

“I’m Jonathan Sims.” He cuts off the other him that is trying to talk over his explanation, “I’m you but from another universe.”

“So like the darker timeline?” Tim asks, a hint of a joke in his voice.

Jon snickers, “Yes I suppose it was, judging by looking at me, you could tell.” He gestures at himself, the scars that still mar him in this universe. He wonders why that is, if he had just thrown himself into a rip in the world with the man he loved. 

Sims, that what he was going to call the Jon from this universe, looked at him like he was both terrified and curious, and Jon knows it is his nature in all universes, “What happened, in that other place, if you’re not lying that is.”

He laughs, short and a bit rude, “Sorry, It’s just that I remember keeping up the skeptic act. You can let it down you know? Doesn’t get you anywhere, unless it did in this place.”

Sims glares, “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Yes yes yes, what's it like here? I haven’t seen either of you in forever.” He didn’t mean to let that slip out but it did, and he hopes the excitement drowned out the bitter-sweetness. He really hadn’t seen either of them in forever, plus he and Tim hadn't been on the best terms before he went and blew himself up.

Tim points to the couch, “We’re asking the questions first.”

“Ah yes that’s reasonable.” Jon sits down on the couch as he was directed too, and waits for the questioning. 

Sasha is the first to say anything, “Ok, lets go with the easiest question, why are you here?”

Jon gives a bit of a derisive snort before flinching at his unpleasant tone, trying to fix that before speaking, “Truly I do not know, I… I left my universe I suppose, to try and reverse the bad things that happened.”

Sims pushes up his glasses, “What kind of bad things?”

“Well, as you can see I look like a punchcard for a free iced coffee.” Jon jokes grimly, Sims grimaces at the humor and he forgets how stuck up he was. Well he didn’t but dealing with it now was annoying.

Sasha elbows their Jon and he looks at her with an almost pout, “What are the scars from?”

“Which ones?” Wow he is rolling in the comedy that day, Martin would be giggling right now if he were there. At the bland looks of annoyance on the other Jon’s face he holds his hands up as if in surrender, “No really which ones?”

Tim points to the circular scars, “Those first.”

“Worms, Jane Prentiss attacked the institute. They’re all over me.” Jon shows them the ones on his forearm by rolling up his sleeve.

Sasha gives an inquisitive noise, “The Magnus Institute?”

Jon is left confused and blinking, “Uh yes. Am I not the Head Archivist here?”

A sudden noise of disbelief came from Tim’s throat, “Oh hell no. We quit after Elias tried to get Jon to take the promotion. I realized that getting revenge wasn't worth getting everyone killed.”

“What?” Jon asks with a disbelieving smile, he knew how important Danny was to Tim, “Wish I had the foresight to do that. And, I'm glad you made that decsion.”

Sasha nods, “I’m the head librarian at a different research institute. Tim’s working at a camping supplies store right now and writing his own books, and Jon, you I suppose, is an audiobook narrator. We have him come read for the kids at the library sometimes.”

Jon listens and feels a pang of sadness, he wished he still had his friends, wished he still had Martin.

“So I guess in the other universe you didn’t get together with us?” Tim asks now, and Sasha swats him on the arm. Jon blinks and then gets a little red. He can see it now, the promise ring on Tim and Sasha’s fingers, Sims’ was on a chain around his neck. Sims’ pants were too large and Tim was using a mug he knew he owned before getting the promotion, and that sweater was not Sasha's. 

Jon takes a breath, “No I didn’t.”

“Oh do tell, did you start dating a big goth? I know Jon had a crush on Gerard from Archives before we all got together. I actually think he’s the Head Archivist now.” Tim asks, seeming a bit like he was excited to get interdimensional gossip. Sims elbowed Tim without much internet to harm, and Tim merely grabbed his hand in retaliation, making a kissy face much to the chagrin of the shorter man.

He laughs, “Oh no not a goth. His name is Martin Blackwood…” He trails off, “I think he worked in the library district while we were in research.” 

Well he knew so now, Martin worked in the Library for 5 years before working in the archives.

Sasha snapped her fingers in recognition, “Oh him! Great tall man, dark red hair, glasses?”

“Yes that's him.” Jon says fondly. Enjoying the gossip with his friends from another universe, it was almost like catching up. Or talking to the dead.

Sims looks at him, still looking like he didn’t want to listen to a thing he said, “So, all of that-” he vaguely gestured to the scars, “-was avoided by quitting before taking a promotion?”

“Yes it was.” Jon says with final clarity, “It’s all Jona-Elias’s fault.”

“What was that?” Tim says, before his eyebrows furrow, “Listen mate are you alright you look-”

Jon feels blurry as he stands up, he can hear the words of his friends and other self worriedly asking what he was doing. His consciousness faded as his head hit the wall.

Just as the first universe he had fallen into, a large rip of web and black matter swallowed his now fading and blurry unconscious body. Sasha and Sims tried to grab the other him before the silky gaping hole in the universe took him, but their hands barely brushed and Jonathan Sims was no longer intruding in a universe he didn’t belong to.

\---------

When Jon wakes up this time, he is looking at the inside of Document Storage. He blinks, before turning and seeing himself. He almost yells in shock before the other him puts a finger over his lips violently.

“Where am I?” Jon asks in a hushed murmur, and the other him, he looks more like a Jonathan than Jon ever did, wearing well made clothes that fit him. His hair was short, with more grey hair than black at that point. He looked the same age as Jon had been two years into the job. He blinked in confusion, the differences were glaring and yet not pointing to anything else.

Jonathan looks around, and he is reminded of his paranoia, but this Jon is almost a fully blown avatar already, his voice is quiet, “Document Storage. Why are you here? Why do you look like me?”

Jon cringes, “Uh I’m Jonathan Sims, from another universe I think.”

Jonathan looks him over and nods, “Alright. Anything is possible with the Web. I don’t think I can trust you, so know that.”

“I can understand that. Do you still have your Martin-”

Jonathan’s face twists in one of disgust, and Jon is taken aback by the ferocity, “Oh we have him.”

“You can’t say it like that-”

“I can do what I please.” Jonathan snapped, and Jon wondered what the hell was wrong with him, but Jonathan seemed to sense the issue, and continued. “What is your Martin like? Tell me."

Jon feels the pull of compulsion and again can resist it, but this Jonathan’s almost hurts to not fall too. He knows full well if he turned his compulsion onto the other him he could kill him, but he was rather not wanting to cause himself any harm no matter the universe.

He takes a breath, “He was- is lovely. Made tea, and dealt with me at my worst. He’s smart and kind, my other half.” He got a little sappy there, but he deserved to be a sap sometimes. 

Jonathan looks at him like he had just said the sun was exploding and changing into a moss ball, “Different Martin’s then. Very different. You must not be evil then.”

“What- hey wait what the hell does that mean-”

Jonathan glares, “The Martin that I know is a crafty man, assistant to Timothy Stoker, head of the institute. He made tea for sure, but he likes to leave spiders in them. He’s apart of the Web.”

“Oh.” Jon goes quiet, “What is it like here. What is the relationship I suppose?” He lets some compulsion lace his words and Jonathan is happy to oblige, not even noticing. 

“Elias Bouchard died, and Timothy Stoker took his place. He changed a lot from research, I just can’t place my finger on it.”

“-Jonah got to him.” Jon interrupted with a gasp, he almost swore, “Golden eyes?”

Jonathan nods, “Yes. Do you mean Jonah Magnus?”

“Yes- I’ll explain just keep telling me about this universe. Who are your archival assistants?” Jon asks, his hands are clenching. Jonah got Tim in this universe. Martin was a part of the web, and he was still head Archivist. He missed the world where everything was ok.

A sigh comes from Jonathan, “Melanie King, Michael Shelley, and Basira Hussain.”

Jon blinks, “The Distortion? Michael?”

“The Distortion goes by Sasha James these days.” Jonathan corrects him bitterly. “It rather liked her face when she went into its hallways.”

“Lord…” Jon can’t think of what else to say, it seems Sasha's don't have much luck, “Daisy Tonner?”

Jonathan looks up, “Alice Tonner you mean? The Buried avatar from statement-”

“Wait what, she's a buried avatar here? Christ. She would have hated to her that.” He can barely think of how it happened, he can’t imagine the fiery Daisy going to any other entity but the Hunt honestly, “How?”

The slow blink he got in return was just short of annoying, but Jonathan still answered, “Her statement, she got trapped in a coffin of the buried and gave herself to the dirt. She tried to choke me to death.”

“Well some things don’t change from universe to universe.” Came the dark retort from Jon, before pointing at the scar on his neck, “From one Daisy Tonner.”

There is a knock on the door and they both freeze. The door opens to a timid looking Melanie, and if Jon isn’t mistaken, he can see the shroud of Lonely around her. She is so different, her anger was softer now, and he remembers Martin saying that 'everything is soft here, even the fear'.

“Oh, there's two of you now. Well, great.” She doesn’t sound as sarcastic as she did in Jon’s original universe, but she looks at them with an annoyance that can almost make up for it, “Martin is looking for you Jonathan.”

Oh they call him his full name here, Jon could see Jonathan nod, “Thank you Melanie.”

“Jonathan.” That was Martin’s voice, but not. Jon looks up with a downing horror at the darkness of Martin’s eyes. His hair is dusted with white, almost cobwebbing like hair. He looks like a mirror house image of Martin, but if Jon had tried to make him as strange as possible. His eyes were black instead of blue, and he could see something crawling near his wrist.

“Oh. Two Jonathan’s. Should I bring this up to Tim?” Martin asks, he sounds so calm and kind, but Jon can see the edge behind his voice. The smile is hiding spider like fangs, in his hands is a mug of tea. 

Jonathan shook his head, looking cordial, “No that won’t be necessary Mr. Blackwood.”

“I’ve told you you can call me Martin.” This universe's Martin says this almost like a threat, that soft tinge of hatred in his voice.

Jonathan shook his head, “I’d prefer not to, we aren’t close, and we never will be.”

Martin looks fake offended, before simply waving a hand, his false distress lowering along with it, “Well I suppose we aren’t, but that isn’t my fault now is it Archivist?”

Jon watches the tense display, and he knows that Jonah is looking at him. He can feel the eyes, and soon Tim Stoker is walking down. There is a complete whiplash effect it has on Jon, that he saw Tim wearing a Hawaiian shirt before landing here, to see him almost have an Elias Bouchard look to him. The smugness was all Jonah.

“Ah hello Tim.” Martin says, a cheeriness that was not the same as the false smile he put up for Jon and Jonathan. Tim smiles back, and Jon feels a twist in his gut. Ah. They were together, well he supposed it made sense in this universe. Power hungry and manipulating went well together.

Tim smiles at them all, “Well well what am I seeing here? Two Archivists? One already so marked up as well. That's quite a surprise, though I can't say I'm not intrigued.”

Jon clears his throat, “No Jonah, I-” He clutches at his heart, the ground looks blurry. This time he’s not out instantly though, and he looks up at the two.

Tim and Martin make a face, “Where are you from?”

Jon laughs at their attempt at manipulation, Martin is trying to pull strings that belonged to a different spider. He couldn’t mess with Annabelle's work, especially if the Web didn’t want him too. Again, he was the bigger eye avatar between him and Jonah now. It was funny that he was so used to being the biggest bad there was in a room, though he supposed that's what bringing entities into the world will do to a man's ego.

He coughs, before the floor swallows him whole. This world seemed to want him gone, and quickly.

The three in the room watches as Jon falls through the floor, the rift in reality closing behind him, stitching together with beautiful silver webs.

Martin looks at the floor and back at Jonathan who is glaring at Tim, about to open his mouth to ask a questions, face set in frustration.

“What did he tell you?” Tim asked with a glare, getting closer to Jonathan, whose hands are clenched.

“He told me that you were Jonah Magnus. But nothing else…” Jonathan feels lost now, but then Tim laughs as if that was old news.

“You needed to know at some point. Good night Archivist.” And Tim- no, Jonah - sends Jonathan into unconsciousness himself with a swift punch. He shakes his hand, running a finger over his knuckle. Tim and Martin exit the room, while Jonathan lays on the ground, a bruise starting to form on his temple.

\---------

This time when he wakes up, he is again at the Magnus Institute. Though he is in an alleyway this time, leaning against a wall. Jon flaps his hands to give himself circulation again. He hates this, waking up and going unconscious, seeing his friends, seeing people he knew so different. It was such a mix of swirls and changes that he felt confused many times.

He walks into the place, because he couldn’t just leave this place the hell alone. So he walks into the place. Rosie is smiling until she spots him, and she frantically calls the archives. She is pointing at the door and Jon just goes to it at this point. At the bottom of the steps he looks at the area, and finds a bunch of people he doesn’t know sitting at the desks.

The Head Archivist door opens and he sees Sasha, covered in scars, almost like his own but different. She is holding a weapon and he moves out of the way just in time to not get knocked over the head with a pipe.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here!?” Sasha snarls out, her eyes a bright red, but he sees the green that lurks behind them. Her eyes hold the same stare his probably had. He dodges another one.

Sasha snarls at his dodging, “Where is your axe you little weasel?!”

Axe? Jon is backed against a wall, hands raised in surrendered, “Jesus Sasha! I’m not the Jonathan Sims you know!”

She stops mid swing and Jon lets out a breath of relief. Her eyes are piercing as she looks closer, and he takes a deep breath, trying to put out that feeling of worry that homed itself in his chest. His mind wandered to Martin once again. He couldn’t have been wandering through dimensions for more than a day. He only stays in them for short periods of time. He hopes Martin got out safer, hasn't been hurt or put through anything else. He may be a watcher but he was not an avatar.

Sasha looks at him still untrusting, but she lowers the weapon, “Come to my office now, I have questions.”

“Alright.”

Jon follows her, seeing the archival assistants staring. He thinks he's seen them in passing from research, before the Archives. Though he wasn’t one to acknowledge people, or take himself away from his work at all even then. As he sits down he notices the office is much like his was, but the shelves were new and there was a tape organizer.

She sits at her seat, but she makes sure that he sees she has a pair of scissors in her hands, should he try anything, “Where are you from?”

Her compulsion felt like nails on his throat and he coughed, “Good Lord, that hurts.” He grumbled, clearing his throat again, “I’m from another universe.”

“Quit the shit.” Sasha says, looking at him, “I didn’t think you had the brain capacity to try and play one over on me.”

Jon felt a little offended, “Hey I am perfectly capable of what I please. But I am not lying either. I’m from a universe where Jonathan Sims became the Archivist.”

Sasha stares for a moment, before her hands are scrambling for a paper and pen. He stares at it with a confused face and she rolls her eyes, “The Archivist has the ability to record and write events down on paper as they happen. I need this on record.”

Jon blinks, “Ah. I had tape recorders.” He tells her, before, as he says that, a tape recorder pops up beside him. “There it is.”

She blinks and her hands are furiously writing, even though she's not looking at it, her penmanship is neat and legible, “In this universe, I guess, Jonathan Sims is an bloody avatar of the slaughter.”

“What? A slaughter avatar. That’s… hmm.” Jon feels confused, what in the world would cause him to become a violent murderer in this universe, though that explains the axe bit from earlier, “I suppose he’s a bit of an issue to you then?”

“That is an understatement.” She says with a bitter laugh, “he almost lobbed my arm off. He likes to play the game called, ``Get in the Archivist way whenever she needs information' '. He’s killed people just to make me angry, just to be a nuisance, to destroy knowledge.” She pulls her shirt in a way that it exposes the long and painful looking scar. It looked a few months old but yeah, it was a very impressive thing.

“Christ.” He mutters, “I.. apologize on his behalf I suppose.”

Sasha laughs, “You’re about as awkward as Tim was.”

“What happened to Tim?” He asked, a bit of worry on his tongue and Sasha went a bit grim.

“He’s a stranger avatar. I really trusted him, but you know, the circus and Danny come before saving the world.” She points to a scar on her chin. It looked like someone had tried to skin her, and Jon knew that someone probably did. Tim. “He got one of my assistants. I wonder how they’re doing honestly. They seemed to like being plastic at least.”

Jon winces, “I'm sorry.”

“It’s fine. Not your fault at least.” She placates, and they sit there for a moment, her hand still moving and writing without her looking at it.

He thinks about it for a second, “Martin Blackwood? Have you heard of him?”

Sasha looks up, “Oh yeah, the corruption avatar.”

“Oh? In my universe he was an archival assistant…”

“Sounds like he's a bit more?” Sasha goads, the light compulsion still feeling like chalk on his teeth. 

Jon nods, his hands twisting in nervousness, “Yes, we were dating.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Whatever for?” Jon asks, confused.

Sasha sighs, “If you’re here, then that means he's not. You’re separated right?”

“...yeah, we got separated.” He says, looking at the desk, “What kind of bugs does he have here?”

“No bugs, he works with mold actually. A nasty bugger when he wants to be, and his tea is not safe to drink but he's polite enough. He made friends with you and Tim, funny enough.” Sasha says, the scissors are finally in their right place on the desk, not poised to kill him should he make the wrong move. “He did kill one of my assistants though.”

“Oh I’m sorry for your loss.”

“That's just how it is sometimes, I try but I can’t save them. I try not to get attached at this point.” She continues sadly, “That's how we found out the tea was not drinkable. Had black mold in such excess that he had to lie down. He died in document storage.”

“Jesus that's...”

“Yeah. We still don’t go in there, even after they quarantined it and fogged the place. Best not to tempt fate.” Sasha says this like its normal. Though he supposed she's seen many different evils in her time so far, just as much as him, minus the apocalypse. 

“What happened to me in your universe? You looked at me real sadly earlier.” She asked, her hands still putting the conversation to words.

Jon looks at her and winces, “You got replaced, the Not Them if you recognize the name.”

“Oh.” Her hands pause for only a moment, “I called it ID Thief.”

Jon snorted, feeling the lightheadedness hitting him like a toxic spore, “Guess that's my cue.”

“What do you mean- oh.” She watches as he stumbles to stand, and almost faceplants into a bookshelf, before falling through a open wound in the universe. She blinks, her hands still going, taking in the experience and putting it into words.

“It was nice talking Jon.” She said, not knowing if he heard her or not, he did. She hopes he gets back to his Martin.

An assistant walks in, staring at the slowly re-stitching portal, “Oh. Distortion?”

“No, I don’t think it’s the distortion this time.” She says, more to herself, and the assistant hands her a file before leaving, closing the door silently behind them.

\---------

This time when Jon wakes up, he is in a bed, silky blankets wrapped around him creating a perfectly decadent sleeping are. Someone is talking. It's familiar. He can hear someone in the kitchen, talking on the phone with someone. Martin. That’s Martin’s voice. All soft and edges that he loved.

He stands up, before collapsing. His bones feel like jelly and he let out a squeak of shock as he hits the floor hard. The thump seems to alert the other to his awakened state, even as he flounders to sit up rubbing at his poor knees.

“Christ! Jon?” Martin runs in to see Jon on the floor, and he says to the phone, “Got to go.”

Jon looks up to see his Martin, smiling and looking close to tears, “By lord Jon you look like a newborn lamb.”

He grumbles, but is basking in the attention from Martin like a snake in the sun, “Travelling universes will do that to you.”

Martin laughs, a relieved smile on his face, “I’m glad you came.”

Jon looked up into the sad eyes and leaned closer, “Me too. How long was I-?”

“A month.” Martin looks down at the floor. 

“A month?! That only felt like a day in each world, I-” he cut himself off, “Well, I’m back now.”

Its peaceful in the room, their hands are intertwined, “Yes you are. We’re back. In the past.”

“Oh.” That's why the room is familiar. It’s Martin’s bedroom, in his flat before Prentiss. It seems he had been here a while to be so familiar with the old space. Jon looks around, “Who were you on the phone with?”

“Tim actually. I told him I found you beat up in an alleyway. Sorry.” He looks genuinely sorry, and Jon could care less about any bruised pride. He truly is back in time, both he and Martin clean of scars. The beauty of the moment is disturbed by Jon’s stomach rumbling and he feels suddenly very tired again. It’s not the same blurry headache that came when changing realities, but one that came from a very human headache.

Jon laughs, “It seems I’m hungry.”

The worry that had made its way into Martin’s face was palpably removed by the lack of tact, and he pointed to the door, “Breakfast in bed?”

“I would love that Martin.”


End file.
